


Don’t Stay for the Good Stuff

by tethealla



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cultural References, Festivals, M/M, Spain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tethealla/pseuds/tethealla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romano is angry about something, and Spain can’t figure it out for the life of him. Cue La Tomatina finally giving them a chance to get those frustrations out - and bring it to a rather delightful close. Or something like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don’t Stay for the Good Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for the Spain/Romano Holiday exchange on LJ, and was oddly a lot of fun to do. The prompt was _Spain and Romano participate in La Tomatina together. Romano gets really into it, becoming hot and bothered. Spain notices. Smut is optional!_ Somehow it turned into what you see for my horrible summary, but man, did this thing get away from me. Originally this was just some quick little silly thing of Spain being like "oh, Romano thinks I’m hot with my shirt off and tomatoes all over me!" And then it morphed into... well, this. For more nonsensical information from your already tl;dring author, this fic was somehow heavily influenced by listening to _Romantic Comedy_ by Stars.

>   
> 
> 
> _Don't walk away then turn and say "I love you" anyway  
>  You come for a week to love me, then you up and leave next day  
> So don't walk away then turn and say "I love you" anyway_
> 
> Spain and Romano’s relationship was full of twists and turns.
> 
> They both had their good days - days where neither of them were too backlogged with work (or just plain happy to run away and ignore it for one more day), days where it was just the two of them and their old little ways and world. They’d have lunches and dinners together, laughing over old bottles of wine and stealing away to the bedroom before long. They’d curl up on the old beds and couches in their equally old houses, dozing away in the heat of summer days. They’d sneak away in meetings for a quick kiss, or just to walk down to the restaurant down the street for a moment of quiet before their usual busy lives started again. Both of them were passionate, lazy, and shared quite a few values, and Spain was quite proud to say he loved Romano through and through.
> 
> But, their disagreements were probably just as common as the things they shared.
> 
> To say their relationship was smooth was to say that Goya didn't go crazy and paint the walls in his apartment in those last few years. Or something like that. Spain had never been very good at analogies. He was good at a lot of things, but analogies - and figuring out just exactly what Romano was mad at him about before Spain got hurt - were not things he was good at.
> 
> Spain hadn't gone into it expecting ease; if their centuries together had taught him anything, it was that Romano was anything but easy. Or at the very least, easy tempered. But that fire and passion had been what Spain was so enamored with to begin with, and a little knock to the head now and again was worth most of the trouble. Even the overturned chairs and weeks where both of them were too stubborn to back down from some disagreement often worked out for both of them in the end.
> 
> But sometimes, those fights went on a little longer than either of them really wanted them to.
> 
> It was the last week of August, and after four weeks and counting of Romano being stubborn and angry about _something_ \- something that Spain couldn't figure out for the life of him, and whatever that something could be was really starting to dig into Spain's nerves - Spain wasn't even sure if Romano would show up for something that had become a bit of a tradition.
> 
> The normally sleepy little city of Buñol, tucked just away from the coasts of Valencia, was already in high swing for the annual festival of La Tomatina. It’d been a habit for Romano to come year after year, mostly for the food and the chance to hit Spain with projectiles in good fun, even if he never fully admitted that he liked it. It also offered a chance for Spain and Romano to have some private time with each other - unless another nation showed up out of the blue, which wasn’t uncommon. (Especially like that one year France appeared out of nowhere, completely stripped himself and jumped into the food fight, only to be carted away by the police. Or those times Prussia and Germany got so drunk poor Italy had to drag them home.) But this year, Spain had cancelled all other plans, and made sure that no unscheduled guests were tempted to show up. It could give them a chance to reconcile, or at least a chance to talk it over - or fight about it, most likely - in private, which Spain knew Romano preferred to a crowd of other nations.
> 
> It was with a great amount of nerves, and the largest amount of praying Spain had done in nearly a century, that he had dared to call and ask if Romano was still planning on coming for it. The noncommittal grunt and click of the line had made Spain's heart sink, but Romano had showed up just as he always did - two days before the festival started, grumpily shoving his bags into one of the rooms of the small cottage Spain rented just for the festival.
> 
> The first few days had been tense. Romano still seemed angry, for whatever reason that Spain could not solve to save his life. He was glaring at platters of paella and the cheerful red and yellow banners hung up for the festival. The parades barely made him bat an eye, and he slept through the fireworks with snores loud enough to even wake their neighbors in the night. No pretty bauble or silly tourist gift Spain offered to buy (which was hard with the limited amount of money Spain had left for things like that, nowadays) tempted Romano in the slightest, not that he would be won over that easily anyway.
> 
> Nothing even seemed to annoy Romano, either. None of Spain's inane babble got more than a grunt or a click of his tongue, and Spain's usual clueless behavior scarcely made Romano even roll his eyes. Even when a pretty girl drunkenly tugged Spain down at two in the morning during one of the many street parties, Romano didn't snap at Spain for not realizing just _what_ the young woman was trying to do to his pants. Romano sulked and ate his way through their meals with few words, besides snapping for Spain to bring him more wine or that it was starting to get cold, and seriously, couldn't they just sit and have a meal for once without a phone going off. But even that wasn't anything like their usual time spent together, even with a fight going on.
> 
> But with all the tense energy, Romano did little to even engage Spain. They hardly spoke, besides for the necessary questions to get two very awkward men through their day - and through the bustling crowds of a small village turned into a city overnight . There were no yelling matches, no fights, no head butting or name calling, or even a fist to Spain's gut that really really did hurt but would be fussed over later when a bruise formed and really that could be okay in the end, you know. Even no sneaky little kiss to say that Romano had decided to forgive him, or one of their more angry sessions of lovemaking to work out the built up frustration. Not even just a simple screaming match to get out at least some of the anger.
> 
> To put it simply, there was none of the fire, the passion, the energy that Spain had come to rely on in their rather rocky relationship. Spain could put up with the fights and yelling matches, even a little bit of a cold shoulder. They always worked those out, one way or another. But this was more than a just cold shoulder - and what scared Spain most of all was there wasn't any release. This nasty disagreement of theirs had hung around for far too long already, and their usual busy schedules had prevented any workaround earlier. Romano seemed reclusive and still too angry to even talk, and that never boded well. Now, Spain feared was that it had hung in the air _too_ long, and now there was a slim chance that even their awkward tough and tumble relationship could survive.
> 
> \---------------
> 
> Spain felt a sense of relief when the final day of the festival rolled around, jumping out of his bed in a hurry once his clock went off that Wednesday morning. Spain had barely slept; he was too restless with the eve of the festival keeping Buñol loud and crowded, and far too unnerved at Romano's continued cold shoulder. But, even if Romano was still angry at him - and that there was a very strong chance that he wouldn't have Romano happy with him ever again at this rate - Spain could at least focus on the thrill the last day of La Tomatina could provide. He could already feel the excited stir of his people in the town, everyone getting ready for the big tomato fight that everyone really came for. Maybe even Romano would get into it and finally start to forgive him! Optimism was always very very good to have, after all.
> 
> "Roma?" Spain asked, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he'd kept it the rest of the festival. Romano had taken to sleeping in the guest bedroom, which had served for a lot of lonely nights that were usually not so lonely. "Are you up?"
> 
> A grunt was his only reply.
> 
> "If you don't get up soon, we're going to miss seeing them set up the palo jabón."
> 
> Another grunt.
> 
> "Be sure to put on the white shirt I pulled out for you, okay?"
> 
> Another grunt, this time with a faint "yeah, whatever" attached to it.
> 
> Spain couldn't stop his sigh, even as he clicked Romano's door closed and hurried off to make them a quick cup of coffee.
> 
> With only a little bit of gentle prodding on Spain's part, they managed to get their way to the plaza in enough time to spare. Stores had already boarded up and shut down for the morning, a few shop keepers nervously eyeing the massive crowd. Navigating their way through the large throng was a bit of a hassle, but soon they were close enough to the center to see the festivities begin. People were already starting to clamor around the greased pole that had been set up, a few daring to try to claw their way up it for the ham before the water started from the trucks surrounding the square.
> 
> Spain spared a look at Romano, who had been fairly quiet on their walk. Usually, Romano loved watching the palo jabón - or as he usually called it, "a bunch of idiots making fools of themselves trying to grab ham off a greasy pole" - but not even the slightest snicker of laughter passed through his lips. Even five young men falling off the pole and into a crowd of screaming women did nothing to stir Romano up. Spain was nearly ready to claw his way up the pole himself, just to see some sort of reaction on Romano’s face - even if that usually never ended well and always tended to end with Romano fussing over him in a bad way. But, any chance of that was tossed aside as someone finally reached the ham, meaning soon it’d be the start of the main event. Romano’s frown only shifted a little deeper as the sprays of water started, showering over them and getting them damp. Any hope Spain had of Romano magically snapping back into his usual self was slowly dying, even with the loud excited yelling of people all around him.
> 
> Spain was about ready to just snap himself when a shot went off, signaling the start of the food fight. Spain slid his goggles on, briefly spying Romano sliding his own on before the chaos really started. Water barreled into them for a second before there were nothing but tomatoes, yelling, and laughter all around them. Soon enough, they were separated by the large crowd, all screaming and throwing tomatoes at each other.
> 
> Spain got a face full of tomato and couldn't help but laugh, suddenly determined to enjoy the festival even if Romano did nothing but stand there haughtily the whole time. The first fifteen minutes was nothing but laughter and tomatoes and running, Spain feeling as if he didn't care if he didn't run into Romano until the hour was up. He was having fun, and Romano's absurdly grumpy behavior for the whole week - let alone the rest of the month - had been driving him mad. Each tomato he hurled into the air felt like a weight off his shoulders.
> 
> He ducked in front of a small alley to catch his breath, laughter still shaking from his shoulders as he tried to scrape at least a little of the excess tomato guts from his shirt and skin. He looked up, surprised to see Romano unknowingly ducking towards him, a bit of a grimace still on his face. Spain frowned, feeling his frustration starting to bubble up again. Without even thinking, he grabbed for one of the flattened tomatoes, throwing it directly into Romano's oddly stoic face. He could hear Romano sputter, even from three meters away, desperately trying to scrape the tomato off his tongue and cheek. It didn't take long for him to spy Spain, putting two and two together.
> 
> For a long moment, they both stared at each other in silence, only shifting as people laughed and bumped into them. Neither of them seemed willing to break eye contact - that is, until Romano returned the favor by chucking a tomato straight back.
> 
> "Ack!"
> 
> It took Spain a moment to scrape the tomato off his goggles so he could see, but he heard it long before he could even see it.
> 
> Romano was _laughing_.
> 
> And not that bitter, unhappy laugh he'd had the past month. Oh no, this was Romano's laugh when he was happy. Or in this case, the fact that he honestly thought something was absolutely hilarious - which was probably Spain's goofy face as he tried desperately to get tomato off his eyes.
> 
> Spain felt something in him soar - whether it was his worries easing or just simple joy that Romano was finally _enjoying_ himself - and suddenly, Spain couldn't help it anymore either, and burst into laughter as well.
> 
> The next half hour was spent with a little tomato war of their own in the battle around them, both of them ducking in and around people to lob tomatoes in each other's directions. Romano was still laughing, cat calling and hurling as many insults as he did tomatoes Spain's way. Spain was gleefully chasing after him, feeling as if every silly little worry they had was getting chucked away with each tomato they hit each other with. It was _fun_ , it was _passionate_ , it was everything that had made Spain adore Romano, even down to that fussy little frown he got when he was mad. It was as if they were solving that stupid little fight, and he was praising the heavens for those boys who had started La Tomatina to begin with.
> 
> Spain didn’t even feel the slightest ounce of guilt as he tore off his tomato encrusted shirt, even at the yell of protest from one of the festival organizers. (Really, the thing was starting to weigh him down, and he was already going to have to bathe thoroughly after this, no point in delaying the matter.) He’d looked up, still plastered with a silly grin that outweighed the tomato stuck to his face, expecting to see the bemused look that Romano had been giving him just moments before. Instead, an odd sort of look passed over Romano’s face - he looked surprised, then almost frustrated for a second, which Spain thought very strange. A flicker of worry flashed in his heart once more; he didn’t want to watch Romano getting sad all over again, or suddenly going back into the cold shoulder he’d been giving him long enough.
> 
> But, Romano seemed to shake whatever had tremored through him, chucking another tomato right at Spain’s face before darting off, a playful "bastard!" ringing out as he laughed and ran away. Spain shrugged, chasing after him with laughter of his own.
> 
> Their little war continued for a while, with that strange look passing over Romano’s face now and again, especially when he seemed to think Spain wasn’t looking. The more he saw it, the more he felt a tickle of recognition in it. Just when did Romano make that kind of face again? He knew he’d seen it before, maybe somewhere private, somewhere special. Still, all those tomatoes lobbed into his face with a grin were a bit distracting. And kind of covered up his sight with tomato gunk, and, really people, it isn’t fair to hit him with more tomatoes when he’s trying to clean it up!
> 
> Still, watching Romano be so into it, to be so _lively_ again - well, Spain could feel the workings of a blush on his face, and not just from the exertion. Maybe Romano would want to go to bed together tonight, finally, after so many months of being alone and cold and-
> 
> Suddenly, Spain knew exactly where he had seen that look before on Romano’s face.
> 
> That sultry little tilt of his head, the shy way he’d stare at Spain’s body in public, that crinkling of his eyes when he was thinking of something that’d make even France blush. The ghost of a look he’d give Spain privately in their bed.
> 
> Spain felt his face flare, even as Romano looked his way again, that same look on his face - and this time, Spain caught the way his eyes raked over his bare skin, and the slight flush of his cheeks under all the tomato covering him.
> 
> Romano caught Spain’s gaze and the blush on his face, staring at him confusedly through the crowd until it seemed to click, his own cheeks darkening properly at the thought. He tsked, stomping away towards the same alley that Spain had taken temporary refuge in earlier, darting through the still crazy crowd with Spain hot on his heels. It didn’t take Spain very long to find him, nestled deep in the alleyway, a glare on his face - but oh, that blush was still cherry red on his skin.
> 
> "I don’t know what fucking ideas _you’re_ getting, idiot, but you’re definitely not getting any after the shit you’ve-"
> 
> Whatever Romano had planned on saying, it didn’t get said. Spain crushed their lips together, pulling Romano close to him and pushing his back against the alley wall. Romano only sighed a frustrated sort of protest before pulling Spain in closer, deepening their kiss with a passion he’d very dearly missed for over a month. Their kisses quickly went from quick and chaste to open mouthed and raw, Spain feeling a delightful tingle all through him. He couldn’t even care how gross they both felt, covered in tomato and seeds and gooey water, their skin sticking together in odd ways as they started to push closer and closer together. Romano seemed to have similar thoughts, or at least didn’t mind the way Spain’s hands tried to pull his shirt up.
> 
> It was barely five minutes of kisses, tongues, and heavy breathing before they heard a loud shot, signaling the end of the tomato fight. Both of them nearly jumped out of their skin, looking back towards where the crowds were before looking at each other, a shared thought drifting between them. Those crowds were coming, and it wouldn’t be long before someone tripped on the two men with their hands literately down each others pants. Spain didn’t even have to say anything for Romano to tug him down and away from the alley, walking fast to the privacy their cottage would offer. Spain practically felt like skipping the way home, or picking Romano up, running them both back home for the final nail in the coffin of their stupid little fight.
> 
> The walk was quick enough for the both of them, and as soon as the door shut closed behind them, any pretense of shyness was gone. Tomato encrusted clothing littered the floor as they slowly made their way to the main bedroom, lips teasing and nipping at each newly exposed bit of flesh. Romano didn’t even seem to care about the taste of the Extremadura tomato drying on them, biting and kissing at Spain’s neck and licking bits of him clean. It was so nice to feel his hands on him again, pushing against his sticky skin, hands roaming in ways that Spain didn’t know he missed. Romano really had always been so very good with his hands in bed, teasing Spain in ways that still made him shudder just at the memory. To have him again after fretting half the week that they might break up was definitely enough to get Spain excited.
> 
> For his part, he smiled encouragingly at Romano, running his own skilled hands over flesh and remnants of food. Romano leaned into Spain’s hands as well, curving just the way Spain liked, humming low under his breath when Spain touched him _just_ so now and again. It was like trying to retrace a map he’d almost forgotten, watching with bemused eyes as Romano would try to hide a moan or a surprised breath when Spain’d touch too close to a sensitive area.
> 
> Even though that usual sort of scowl was back on Romano’s face, it was teasing - and sometimes frustrated as some article of clothing didn’t want to come free after all the tomato caked onto it. But, that scowl would break now and again for a triumphant smirk, making Spain feel more than one kind of thrill in expectation. A confident Romano was a very sexy Romano, if Spain said so himself.
> 
> It didn’t take much more teasing before they both tumbled against the bed, last bits of clothing being shed and one thing on both of their minds. Well, maybe more than one thing in Spain’s case.
> 
> "A-ah, Roma-" Spain managed to breathe out after a few more minutes of very passionate, very much missed kissing. He could already feel the sheets sticking to his back. Sheets that he’d have to sleep on later. "Shouldn’t we take a shower first? The bed will get all sticky-"
> 
> Romano rolled his eyes, pulling Spain in for one long, open mouth kissed that made Spain’s toes curl. "Shut the fuck up and get onto fucking me, idiot."
> 
> Spain did not need much more encouragement.
> 
> With a bit of a thump, he rolled them both over, smiling a small apology as Romano hissed in surprise. Spain crawled languidly over him, grinning like the cat who got into the cream - especially as Romano sucked in a breath as their erections suddenly brushed together. Both of them were already hard, needy after a long dry spell of their own creation. Spain wasted no time in scooting over to the end table, pulling out the lube and condoms he’d brought on some dream that _maybe_ Romano would let him back into his bed. That and really, it was always good to keep lying around, just in case.
> 
> Romano pulled him in for a kiss, their mouths open and wanting, tongues battling against each other as Spain let his fingers trail downward. Spain nearly chuckled at the tickle of Romano grumbling curiously into the kiss, then at the outright moan that broke it as he slid his fingers around his cock. The lube and condom were forgotten for now, both of them pressing close together again as Romano rested his head on the headboard. His hands darted up to Spain’s shoulders, gripping tight as Spain began a leisurely pace with his hands. Spain always loved watching the way Romano’s face screwed up as he tried hard _not_ to give him too much satisfaction in his reactions, even as he panted and clung close to him. He knew how much Romano liked his hands; the way he’d pull them easily over sensitive skin, or brush them teasingly against the edge of his head, making his writhe until the contact came back.
> 
> He was about ready to lean down and take Romano into his mouth - playing into each of Romano’s usual desires sounded good at the moment, especially considering how glad he was to even have Romano speaking to him again, let alone _this_ \- but Romano stopped him, pulling his face back up.
> 
> "N-No, later. Not... not gonna last if you do that."
> 
> Spain blinked, then smiled evenly, a little snort of laughter leaking out as he sat back up, staring at the man in front of him. Romano certainly was flushed, his breathing heavy, and a bit of a glare on his face after Spain’s snort.
> 
> "I said get on with it!" he snapped, pushing his hand against Spain’s shoulder.
> 
> Spain laughed then, fishing the lube and condom back out. He squirted out a considerable amount of lube into his hand, slicking his fingers as he crawled up in between Romano’s legs. "Yes, yes. So impatient today!"
> 
> The indignant little growl in response made Spain laugh again, but any insult was quickly silenced as one finger slid in, and a light hiss left Romano’s mouth instead. Spain was trying his best to be quick and gentle at the same time, probing that one finger around before pumping it in and out slowly, watching Romano’s face carefully for any negative reactions. He waited a moment before sliding another finger in, scissoring them experimentally and grinning as Romano groaned. Romano wasn’t as tight as he feared he might be after so long, and Spain picked up his pace, pumping his fingers in and out before adding a third, watching as Romano writhed a little under him.
> 
> Romano gave him a grunt and a nod to let him know he was ready, and Spain slid his fingers out. He fumbled briefly with the condom before sliding it on, laughing at the way Romano glared at him from across the bed. (And the way Romano’s cock twitched in expectation, but really, that was another matter entirely.) Spain made sure he was situated before coating himself in a quick squirt of lube, crawling back over to Romano with a smile on his face.
> 
> "I’m so glad," Spain hummed, a little breathless as he tried to line them both up. "That you aren’t angry at me anymore."
> 
> Romano groaned, trying to shift towards him, and grumbling when Spain didn’t push in yet. "If you don’t hurry up, I _am_ going to be angry, you dumbass."
> 
> Spain chuckled, finally sliding in, relishing in the way that Romano moaned and arched against him. He stayed still for a moment, waiting for Romano’s breathing to even, before starting to move, slow and teasing and _oh_ good god in heaven, how he had missed this. Romano seemed to share that feeling, wrapping his legs around Spain’s waist and pulling him in deeper, his nails already cutting little marks into the still sticky skin of his back. Romano also seemed to be _very_ appreciative, moaning and rocking his hips just so with each thrust, making Spain groan in response. He even tugged hard on Spain’s hair, bringing him in for bruising and heated kisses, biting teasingly along Spain’s shoulder blades as Spain picked up the pace and made them both shudder.
> 
> Both of them knew they weren’t going to last long, and their kisses grew just as sloppy as Spain’s thrusts before long, the old bed rocking beneath them. Spain slid one hand down, pumping Romano’s erection in time with his thrusts as best he could. He watched as Romano arched and clung to him, tilting his head back and panting as he grew close. Spain lavished the same attention Romano did earlier to his neck, sucking and biting and leaving marks that he knew Romano would fuss over later.
> 
> Romano came with a cry, his cum mixing in strangely with a bit of tomato stuck to his thigh, Spain sucking in a breath as he felt himself drawing closer as well. He gripped Romano’s hips tight, pounding into him while Romano rode out his orgasm, twitching and shuddering around him in a delightful way. A few moments later, Spain finished as well, flopping uselessly against Romano as they both came down from their respective highs.
> 
> They laid in a panting heap on the bed, both of them quickly realizing just _how_ sticky and gross both of them were. And just how disgusting the sheets felt against both of them. Romano tried to pull up his arm, glaring as the sheet stuck hopelessly to him, groaning in frustration as he leveled Spain with a glare.
> 
> "I am _not_ sleeping in this bed with you."
> 
> "Well, you’re the one that told me to hurry up and not bother with it, you know."
> 
> Romano flushed, his usual shame slowly creeping back into place. "Shut up."
> 
> Spain just grinned. "I’ll just sleep with Roma in the guest bedroom as the sheets dry then, hmm?"
> 
> The small little smile that crept onto Romano’s lips made Spain’s heart flutter for a second. "Yeah, sure. But first, we are fucking taking a shower, this is _disgusting_."
> 
> "Can we take one together?" Spain asked, his eyes glittering.
> 
> "Stupid pervert," Romano snapped as he whacked Spain’s arm - but the playful smirk on his face definitely said otherwise.
> 
> \---------------
> 
> One long, overdue shower later - well, long only because at first it wasn’t much of a shower, and more of "let’s fool around some more" and then "oops, it looks like you’re going to have to cling onto that tile, Roma, it’s rather slippery, you know!" - both of them settled in for a large lunch and then a very needed siesta. Both of them were curled up in Romano’s designated guest bed, happily settled in for the afternoon. Spain was feeling the most relaxed, relieved, and sated that he had in over a month, and even Romano’s hair tickling against his chin wasn’t enough to get him to move.
> 
> It was enough to keep him up to ask a very important question, however.
> 
> "By the way Roma, what were you so angry at me about?"
> 
> Romano sighed, sounding quite old and long suffering for someone who looked like a man of twenty two years. "You fucking forgot our anniversary, idiot."
> 
> Spain halted. "Eh? I… I did?"
> 
> A nod. A very angry, curt nod.
> 
> Spain felt very very bad for a moment - really, after so many years, you'd think it wouldn't be that hard to remember _one_ date, but when you have to remember so _many_ dates after so _many_ years, it really did grow quite difficult. But, then, Spain suddenly remembered something else. "…I thought you didn't care about things like that!"
> 
> Romano stiffened, his face showing both that he didn't care and that he cared _very_ much. "I don't give two shits about the _date_ , asshole - but do you know just _what_ I had to do to get those fucking restaurant reservations? After all the ass kissing I had to pull just to have you pleasantly _forget_ and blow me off, I have every fucking right to be pissed off!"
> 
> "Oh."
> 
> Well, that made sense.
> 
> Spain let a smile creep up onto his face though, sliding his leg gently against Romano's own. "...Did Boss make it up to you though?"
> 
> Romano glared at him and grumbled, but the faint pink on his cheeks let Spain know that he really had at least won some sort of favor in Romano's heart. "…Next round, _you're_ getting it up the ass."
> 
> " _Romaaaaa_ -"
> 
> "Shut up!"
> 
> Really, those twists and turns weren’t always so bad.
> 
>  _I loved you before  
>  And I'll love you 'til then  
> you're my foe and my lover and brother and friend_
> 
>   
> 


End file.
